


even celebrities need a day off

by adamantine



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin and Haru visit Iwatobi before the Olympics.</p>
<p>For the Day 7 "Olympics" prompt of For the Future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even celebrities need a day off

Haru followed Rin up the hill. Neither of them spoke and in the silence between them, Haru could hear the sound of their footsteps. A light breeze blew Rin’s hair to the side. Haru hoped it wouldn’t interfere with the incense Rin carried.

The path they took was familiar to Haru, but he had never followed it to the end. His family grave was in the middle of the hill, a spot surrounded by trees, perpetually in shadow. The only person it represented Haru had actually met was his grandmother; the others had died before he was born.

An old woman walked out from under the trees, a ladle and pail in hand. Haru and Rin stopped to greet her, bowing politely before they continued on. Haru was relieved she didn’t try to keep talking to them (or worse, try to take them home and feed them). The past few days in Iwatobi had sorely convinced him he wasn’t built to be a public figure.

In Tokyo, strangers recognized him. Occasionally, Haru was forced into signing something or having his picture taken. It was nice when Rin was with him; they could both be in the picture then. But overall, he really didn’t mind as long as people respected his boundaries. One time a drunk salaryman made the mistake of touching him; he was lucky Rin was there to smooth things over when Haru slapped the man’s arm off his shoulder.

When Rin suggested they take a vacation to Iwatobi before their training schedule made it impossible, Haru readily agreed. Something about Rin’s demeanor gave Haru the impression Rin needed this trip, needed to be in Iwatobi before the Olympics. Besides, he figured he could use a break from Tokyo where he was forced to walk by a billboard of his own face, _smiling_ , on the way to the gym.

Haru did not anticipate the problem of being one of the only “famous” people Iwatobi could claim a connection to. In Iwatobi, Haru was free from seeing giant pictures of his face (though it sadly also meant not seeing a certain underwear ad featuring Rin) but in exchange he dealt with something possibly far worse: extremely friendly people. Unlike in Tokyo, where Haru felt confident he’d never see the people who came up to him ever again, Iwatobi was small enough that more often than not the people who heckled him (and Rin) were already acquaintances. Like the elderly couple who lived next to door to the Nanase residence.

Haru and Rin were leaving the Tachibana house when the couple had chased them down (Haru did not know people in their eighties could be that fast) and invited them to tea. Haru couldn’t think of a polite way to decline the invitation without upsetting them and possibly causing their death — the man was wheezing a little too much for Haru’s liking — which meant Haru was forced to drink his fifth cup of tea in an hour (Haru had a hard time saying no to Mrs. Tachibana; she had the same disarming smile as Makoto) while Rin ate some terrifying pastry covered in more sugar than he usually consumed in a month.

Haru wasn’t even safe in the grocery store. He had been minding his own business, planning a meal to surprise Rin’s mother with, when the manager — a short, balding man that Haru knew by sight but not name — appeared with “The best mackerel in the store, on the house!” before proceeding to hug him. It took a bonus “The second best mackerel in the store, I didn’t mean to alarm you Nanase-senshuu!” to get Haru to forgive him for the hug.

The most bothersome, however, was the day they went out to eat with Gou. Their waiter was an old classmate of Rin’s; the pair chatted about foreign bands and gossiped about people Haru didn’t know. That in itself wasn’t so bad, but when the man shyly asked for Rin’s autograph (“My nephew is a huge fan!”) Haru did not buy his claim for one second. He spent the rest of the evening trying to subtly hint that Rin was taken.

In his quest to escape surprise hugs and discourage flirtatious waiters, Haru had all but forgotten about the mysterious reason Rin wanted to visit Iwatobi in the first place. That is, until this morning.

They were jogging along Iwatobi’s coastline when Rin suggested they stop for a break. Haru wasn’t about to protest the suggestion; he was annoyed Rin had tricked him into training while on vacation (the trick being batting his eyelashes and saying “please”) and looked forward to guzzling down the rest of his water bottle — and maybe Rin’s too.

“Haru…” Rin fidgeted with his ponytail. “There’s someone I would like you to meet later. If that’s okay with you.”

“Okay.”

Rin smiled at him. “Race you back?”

And even though only moments before Haru was about ready to ditch Rin and try to see if this would finally be the day he’d turn into a mermaid when he entered the ocean, Haru found himself already running, leaving behind a sputtering Rin.

“Cheater!”

Haru ran faster.

 

 

Haru loosened his grip on the flowers in his hand, afraid of crushing them.

Rin had not told him outright where they were going, but the flowers and incense spoke for themselves.

Matsuoka Toraichi. The man who loved relays, who wanted to go to the Olympics, but became a fisherman instead. For years, Rin took on his dream as his own, as if apologizing for being born. It hurt Haru’s heart to think about.

They reached the top of the hill. Haru could see a line of graves ahead and a wave of anxiety washed over him. What if Rin’s father didn’t like him? What if the wind, which had been steadily picking up the higher they went, knocked over the incense and burned down the entire cemetery? What if Rin regretted bringing Haru to such a sacred place? _What if Rin’s father didn’t like him?_

“We’re almost there.” Rin waited for Haru to catch up. “It’s the one at the end.”

Haru nodded, his tongue dead weight in his mouth.

The view was beautiful. The sun’s reflection on the ocean twinkled; a few fishing boats dotted the landscape. It was a scene Haru itched to paint.

Rin carefully placed the incense sticks in their holder before lighting them; he then lit the candle next to it, which Haru noticed had glass to shield it from the wind.

He followed Rin’s lead and placed flowers in the two vases on either side of the incense holder. It was obvious the grave had regular visitors; the surface was clean and a little leftover water in one vase made Haru suspect it had been recently used.

“So…” Rin cleared his throat. “I’d like you to meet my dad. Dad, meet Haru. Haru, this is my Dad.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Matsuoka-san.” Haru bowed and Rin laughed.

“I know this is weird… but I used to visit my dad’s grave before big competitions and I thought, well, I thought…” Rin struggled to find the right words. “It felt right to bring you with me this time.”

Haru reached for Rin’s hand and gave it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. Rin bumped his shoulder against him in return. Haru found the courage to speak.

“I’m sure Rin’s already told you this but, he’s going to be in the Olympics. He’s probably going to win too. At least in butterfly.” Rin snorted. “He’s told you about dragging me to Australia, right? About the way he forced himself into my life in the first place? The way he always turns my life upside down?” Haru could feel emotions he usually kept buried beginning to surface. Was this Rin’s fault? Was his stupid ability to cry at the drop of a hat rubbing off on Haru?

“Hey. If you’re just going to complain about me…”

“I’m not.” What was wrong with his voice? Why did he sound like the time Rin watched _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ and couldn't stop blabbering about the poor cat out in the rain?

“Oh. Okay then.” A tiny amount of blush appeared on Rin’s face. Haru suspected he was sporting a similar look.

“Your son means more to me than I can put into words. I promise to take care of him as long as I can… please entrust him to me.” On reflex, Haru bowed again. He only felt slightly foolish.

“We’re going to the Olympics, not getting married.” Rin’s words were chiding, but his expression was so gentle Haru knew he’d be sketching the memory of it later. Haru stepped closer to Rin and cupped his face.

“No, not yet.” He pressed his forehead against Rin’s. “But maybe one day.” Whenever Haru thought of the future, Rin was by his side.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Rin’s breathe brushed against his lips; Haru was tempted to kiss him but felt it might be inappropriate given the location.

He had no idea if Rin’s father approved of him, would have approved of him if he was alive, but he didn’t want to waste anymore time worrying about questions he could never have the answer to. It was Rin’s beating heart, his glowing face, his soft smile, that mattered to Haru.

“Let’s head back. My grandmother invited her gardening club to dinner.” They broke apart and Haru groaned.

“The whole club?” Haru had seen a picture of the group, mostly comprised of middle aged and elderly women, and there had to have been at least two dozen members.

“For some reason, they seemed excited to meet us. Something about the pride of Iwatobi.”

Haru groaned again. “If they’re this bad and we haven’t even gone to the Olympics…” He shuddered.

Rin gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You’ll survive.”

“Hmmm.”

They held hands on the way down — the wind thankfully calm, sparing Haru the indignity of Rin’s hair flying into his face — while Rin gushed on about a swimming theory book he was currently reading, Haru occasionally chiming in to make sure Rin knew he was listening.

**Author's Note:**

> Please use this image (https://embed.gyazo.com/92a8def04ff0c828c8e2f4664c408be2.png) of the Matsuoka family grave as reference in case you’re like... incense holder? candle? what? Or a similar real life version (https://embed.gyazo.com/bcc8fbbd010186be6a0be182bb51d612.png). The laddle + pail the old lady is carrying is for cleaning a grave. I actually have no idea if Americans clean graves? They do in Hungary which is the only experience I have with cemeteries.


End file.
